Slight Misinterpretation
by prettilitTLepoison
Summary: I caught a little of his light blue shirt into my well manicured fingers and pulled him close. Our lips drew to each other as though they had a mind of its own. The lights flickered and shadows fell around us. Complete. Cuddy/House implications, H/W?
1. House, House, House

His words were drawled out, slightly lecherous in its tone, enveloping my senses, closing them off, suffocating them. Suffocating me.

"Ah, new top." He let his fingers slide down his cane, his eyes lit like a light bulb on crack, but in this case, Vicodin. "Almost as revealing as that.. skirt." His eyes flashed and glowed; the set up to yet another joke on me was already complete.

Pretending his words were mere gibberish, I watched him out of the corner of my eye. I smiled slightly.

He tapped his cane to the floor, making me jump. I finally looked up at the irritant. I was soon faced nose to nose with the _very _same irritant that could so effortlessly wheedle strange, obscure clues and unscramble it into a very uncommon answer, but, the _right_ answer nonetheless. The same _genius_ that came crashing into sanity and said with a single glance, 'Reality, your no match for me.' And with that, my quiet, florescent, rule-stricken world came to a erratic halt and crashed in an explosion of House, House, House.

I lifted my eyebrow as I looked at the insolent, sarcastic little... god, his eyes looked_ right_ _through you_. I shook my head and he yawned in what was probably boredom, drawing back, and finally I could breathe again.

"Hey, Cuddy, I thought we had a rule for skirts like that... below the knee, too low to see.. above the thigh, well, I can't think of a good rhyme for that. Let's just say rowr!" He distastefully bowed, with the biggest grin plastered on his face. I shook my head severely, trying not to laugh at the immature antics, just... breath. I let the the slightly warm air flow in my nose, out of my mouth. Ah, that's better.

I knew he was staring at me, with an odd little expression, an expression that said '_You know, I'm _not_ your mother, so stop pretending like your a good liar_.' It stung true in more ways than I thought was possible. But it was House, so anything was possible.

I coughed, feeling a slick heat flow into the room. Now, I knew it wasn't just me, House was sweating too. I saw a bead slow down his forehead to his cheek. He didn't seem to notice, nor care.

It burned my eyes, looking at him, especially when my eyes would corner a specific spot for too long, and just _thinking _about it made the heat skim across my skin. I was blushing.

He ignored it, probably to taunt me later. I finally let my logic win.

"House, is there a reason you came in here, or are we gonna play this game all day?"

"Well, seeing as how its almost time to go home, it wouldn't even be worth it, now, would it?" His words wore an ironic grin.

I rolled my eyes and sank into my chair, the sulky florescent lights giving us a shallow emptiness, but for some reason, he glowed all the more. "Must have lost track of time..." I said lowly, and House smirked.

"Hey as much fun as it is watching you argue with yourse-- oh look, it's WILSON!" He yelled, shuffling off to catch up with his friend, who either could wait up for him, or run. It was hard to choose which of those choices would suit him best. House was VERY loud, and VERY needy... sometimes.

I peered away from my current surroundings and saw it was indeed Wilson, with his oh so fashionable blue colored tie and gray button up shirt, black dress up shoes and black slacks. House, however, wore jeans and a band tee ensemble with his black coat. They were so opposite, SO opposite. And yet, they were so close, and even now, after the death of Amber, Wilson's girlfriend, they were even closer...! I'm sure that surprised House more than I, but then again, there could be ulterior motives for Wilson's actions. Maybe... nah.

It was a good thing, I mean, they were _best_ friends, each others scapegoat for when Wilson had yet another messy divorce, or when House just couldn't take it anymore, and not even another strong drink would help. I couldn't help but smile, they were made for each other... but... then again, what about..

I coughed again.

Me?

Just then the lights seemed to dim and my stomach did a flip flop. Everything became dizzy and...


	2. Imprints

--Several days earlier--

_"House... your such a _damn_ tease." I tittered and pushed the snickering figure away. The man grinned and leaned toward my ear. He ghosted his breath along it, then turned away._

_"Good to see you again, oh magical Dean of Medicine." He twirled his cane and walked away. _

_My insides twisted pleasantly, my heart pounding blood into my ears, especially in that ... spot. I caught my bearings and walked a little too quickly to catch up to him. It was not as if he could walk very fast--_

_I caught a little of his light blue shirt into my well manicured fingers and pulled him close._

_Our lips drew to each other as though they had a mind of its own. The lights flickered and shadows fell around us._

_We kissed with breathless persistence, our eyes locking in fervor. After every kiss, I ghosted my lips upon his oh so lightly, leaving my imprints on them._

_Soon the shadows drifted off and he was nothing but air and all at once my mind and lips whispered his name. "House..." _

I woke to the familiar sounds and scenery of my office. Damn, I just _had_ to doze off.

"BOO!"

"AHHH!" I let out a high pitched scream, making passersby wince and look nosily into my office.

House laughed as only a child could, looking at me with slight amusement. _Damn_ him.

"I'm bored, entertain me." House whined, tapping his cane impatiently on my desk.

Again, damn him.


	3. There is the Moon

(As to a response of a review... the bold is the narrative of Cuddy, the italic is her dreams, and the regular wording is a representation of memory and fantasy.)

* * *

--Around two days earlier and maybe even later--

**A slick chill of a sweat paints thickly on my neck and forehead, as I'm trying to sleep, slathered and sticky, chilly and warm. Tonight, Lisa Cuddy _will _rest, but I knew that tonight, especially, that wasn't really true. My thoughts ran rampant, a cliche run away train, licked in flames and screaming people, wild and desperate. The thoughts flow into my sight, hidden under my soft eyelids. **

**I was in that rough edge of a sleep; the kind where sleep is so close that it teases and stays at a stand still, and won't delve into what the body really wants, what the mind desires, what the soul craves. Sleep.**

**There was a nagging, a sort of realization that I could feel on the tip of my tongue, and though I wanted to know, my gut told me to forget it. I hate that, when you want to remember something so badly but for some deep dark reason your gut won't let you. Well, until its too late, that is.  
**

**I was on the verge of waking almost completely, when the scattered thoughts halted and I was soon droning... in and out of dreams... until it was deep.  
**

_She gazed over the steep building, her eyes peeking over the second story of the apartment complex. The sky was so starkly black, the only light her eyes had was the darkly outlined, ethereal star known as the moon, dotted with random street lamps. Her hands gripped along the banister of the high porch..._

"What.." A voice called, barely distinguishable. A hand jutted from the shadows of the next room, reflected secretly in my mirror. I shuddered as it was lain quietly upon my shoulder. I sighed in slight relief as I recognized the hand, and the familiar form. Why would I think_ this _shadow a stranger? "W_hat_ are you doing? There couldn't be anything more interesting to look at than me in boxers, drinking a beer, watching reruns of some dumb old football game I don't even care about... huh?" He smirked, his face lying on the small of my neck, resting and breathing.

"There is the moon." I said slowly.

House groaned a cliche, "_Women_." and turned around, saying nothing as he walked away.

_...as her eyes traveled lower, to the ground, as though they were falling, and her body was still up high, watching. But that was impossible, right? Her body felt twisted, and her mind was as ambiguous as a shadow in a street corner. Her eyes finally found that spot her pairs seemed so fixated on. _

I sighed and went back inside the dimly lit room, the droning of the television playing the promised reruns of some random football game.

My eyes set on the figure, the figure my eyes seemed to be so fixated on, the person that could never give me that satisfaction of knowing just exactly is going on in that mind of his.

I guess it's better _not_ knowing...

_She hiccuped in a strange nervousness, startled at the scene drawn out so vividly, so up close, all the way down, two stories. It was an owl, it seemed, dead, lying on the cool pavement. Its eyes stood out, seeming to catch her own, vibrating echoes of color in her vision. The monstrous eyes were as wide as a chestnut, only rounder. They possessed a chilling hue, of that a pale gray as the outline of the orbs, inside, a deep shade of blue.  
_

_Then... black._

_Its wings were spread, as though they were ready to fly, but now, they were fluttering in the atmosphere uselessly.  
_

**Everything**

**Became**

**Dizzy**

**And...**

_Two pairs of separate hands connect as one, gripping tightly and then sliding away, cool blue eyes settled on a tranquil emerald pair._

I finally woke and shuddered in dizzy chills, coughing, and soon, I finally began to breathe. Lifting my hand to wipe sweat from my forehead, sliding down my neck and throat, I gazed across my room, to the mirror at the other end, catching a glimpse of my reflection. I saw a confused woman, teeth clattering, as her eyes felt like large stones were being thrown into her soft, calming pools, the 'crazy' spilling over her eyes to her lips, teeth, shoulders, hands and fingers. I didn't know this woman? I _didn't know_ her.

I shook my head insistently, over and over, knowing, repeating...

**Reality was still in my grasp**. I just needed to look harder. I wasn't going crazy. I'M NOT.

But, these dreams had to be telling me something. It seemed obvious... but House was in my dream. Nothing can ever be obvious with that man.

All I really know is I am left with the aftertaste of House, and it always lingers throughout the day, the smells of his aftershave, his clothes, soft and with the inescapable Cologne that always waterfalls into my senses, the Cologne that made women swoon. That undeniable scent of a_ man_. But, of course, House had another scent, a sort of smell that drew you to him, and yet made you want to run away, far away.

I sighed, frustrated, slipping deeper into my covers, trying to douse the flames and stop the train and save those people. But, it crashed and exploded, in a massive destruction. But out of the ashes, maybe there was hope. Maybe there were surviviors.


	4. P h a n t a s ma gor ia

_My eyes gazed upon a random point in the bedroom's surroundings, and soon fell upon a dusty old book. I jumped up from my bed, strolling across the room to the mysterious thing. It seemed to have appeared of thin air._

_I opened to the first couple pages, to creamy white paper. I sighed softly and got up, looking for a pen. _

_The window was wide open, and a subtle breeze wafted the pages of the book. _

_The wind picked up and let the pages sigh and stir, setting upon a single word, spaced in a queer fashion._

P h a n t a s ma gor ia

_I turned around, my neck highlighted in the moonlight, skidding brilliance off my reflection upon the bay window.  
_

_A hand jutted from the shadows, but then was lain quietly upon my shoulder._

I exhaled shortly.

* * *

"I'm bored, entertain me." House whined, tapping his cane impatiently on my desk.

_Again, damn him._

"I have no time to entertain a simpleton." I said wryly, looking up at him from the corner of my eye. There was something flashing in his eyes.

"Tell me what you were dreaming." House said slowly.

I looked at him strangely, but inside, I was twisting and pumping blood way to fast. "No."

"Ah MOM!... You're _no_ fun these days." House said childishly, tapping his foot to emphazise the point.

I coughed at his indignantly, and shoved his cane off my desk, a couple of papers flying off in a swooping twirl.

He furrowed his brow. I blew some steam off my lips in a whistle, and in a indiscreet anger, I got up, walking over to get the scattered files.

"Your hand is shaking." House said plainly.

I shook my head slightly. But as I reached for the papers, I saw that my hand _was_... shaking.

"I'm fine."

"No, your--"

"Yes, I am."

He leaned forward and took my hand. "Not."

All the blood in my body drained and seemed to pump directly into my hand, making it warm.

"House..." I warned, my body raising a few degrees.

"What?" He said not so innocently.

"Let go." I slipped my hand away and finished picking up the files.

"Why don't _you_, then?"


	5. Games

"Let go." I slipped my hand away and finished picking up the files.

"Why don't you, then?"

I was lost in the words and although they struck a chord with me, it was a very strange feeling, like at the tip of my tongue.

What was he trying to say?

He wanted me to not say anything. He wanted the reaction of confusion.

I wanted so much to talk to him, _really_ talk to him. I wanted to know if he might feel the same and--

Wait.

My face grew hot as I realized...

I could never be with him. It would never work, I can barely handle him now, and he's just the insolent Diagnostician that I watch over, babysit, cover for. But, I respect him, and maybe I could handle the drugs, I don't know about the alcohol, but--

"Hello--? Have we landed on earth yet?" House said in a sing-song manner, gesturing wildly with his hands.

House only plays. He likes games.

Not relationships.

Not ...

Me.

I took in a shallow breath. "I'm fine, House, will you leave now?"

"Naw, I wanna pick on you some more."

"House..." I groan, rubbing my temples in a desperate attempt.

"Wait a moment!" He says theatrically. "I was gonna do my rendition of The Sound Of Music for yooou!" He says in a fruity high pitched voice, pretending to be carried away by some mysterious force.

For the first time in a few days, I let myself laugh, genuinely.

--


	6. Hidden

I took in a deep breath and decided it was time for a break, time for lunch.

--

After getting some of my files organized for later, including bills, bills and more bills, I took my hair out of its bun and let it flow freely upon my shoulders. I took the elevator and walked into the main entrance area. There stood House, talking to a nurse.

"I think he went outside." The nurse said in a heave, wearing a thin frown upon her face, her tan hands sorting through different patient medication. "But I don't know if he wants ta talk."

I only assumed House wanted to talk to Wilson. I let myself glance at him once again, and saw a strange sight. He looked flustered as he limped past the patients and nurses and noise, set on one destination.

I took my leave and went to get some sustenance, otherwise I would faint. So tired.

Sleep hasn't come easily to me, lately.

--

Within about fifteen minutes, my stomach was full and I was thinking more clearly. I need to give up this childish crush, I let these dreams affect me way too much.

Wilson would give him the best companionship, and like I said, I'm just his boss. If we did have a relationship, it would probably only be a fling.

--

When I came back, I saw Thirteen and House conversing. Maybe there was a new case.

"Why was Wilson upset?" She said in a nosy yet compassionate voice. House rolled his eyes.

"Is that why you are here? The better question is; why were you watching us like an obsessed freak?" He said in much more anger than he intended. He meant more like annoyance.

"Well, he was crying..."

"He's just on his period, I told him to get some Midol, he'll be fine soon."

Thirteen grimaced.

House grinned.

I sighed.

House peeked over his shoulder and saw me. I was almost frozen, and as he watched me, I saw something, something important, like a realization, hidden in his eyes.

But it was fleeting, as he ignored me and went back to talking to Thirteen.


	7. Fell for what?

"New case." House said as he entered my door.

I glanced up at him and went back to work.

"I'm pretty sure its FFI. Fatal Familial Insomnia."

"Interesting. And you're telling me this why?"

House smiled as he walked in. "Icebreaker. I saw you staring at me and Thirteen. You know about Wilson."

"How are you treating it?" I asked, completely ignoring the aforementioned.

House sighed and sat down. "If you haven't noticed, I'm bored. I need to talk to you."

Silence. I rustled some papers.

"Anyway..." House muttered and sat down across my desk, pulling his feet up on the surface.

"Wilson thinks we're together."

I gasped out a laugh.

"H..He does? But why was he crying?"

House looked down. "I don't know, maybe cause of Amber. Maybe, we're too close." He said, the words almost seemed painful to admit out loud.

"Too... close?" I wrinkled my nose.

"So, Cuddy, I have a question. Do you want to be together?" House said seriously.

Silence permeates the air, and it hung no promise of an answer. I wasn't expecting that.

Tick, tock, tick. Tick.

House burst out in laughter, soon dissipating into giggles.

"You fell for it!" He looked at me, then gave me a secret glance, and I melted, feeling dizzy.


	8. Dream

Tick, tock, tick. Tick.

House burst out in laughter, soon dissipating into giggles.

"You fell for it!" He looked at me, then gave me a secret glance, and I melted, feeling dizzy.

Fell for what?

"Your an ass." I finally said.

"In all serious, I have a question for you." But there was still a smile, ear to ear, gleaming teeth and all.

"I want to know what you've been dreaming about."

I wouldn't let him get to me. And I knew he was looking for a reaction, so I stayed calm, though inside, my heart was pounding.

"Why? And that was more like a command, not a question."

"Just tell me. One dream."

"Will you go away if I do?"

"Why not?"

"I dreamed about a dead owl. There, go now." I gestured my hands toward the door.

"Hmm, cool." He look satisfied enough but turned slightly and shook his head, then walked out.

I let myself cool down, then realized how much work I was putting off.

I murmured a string of expletives and went back to paying off some of the bills.

--


	9. The End

_The creature swooped upward into the sky, and in an instant, was dust in the broken air._

_"Death. . ." A shadow of a voice whispered in the sky. _

"Ho..House.." My breath caught in my throat, but I felt detached, not myself.

_Warm breath licked my ear, closing in, honing in on my flesh like a deadly weapon aimed at its unsuspecting victim, accurate and taunting as it lurked abut my flesh._

_My hands gripped tightly at the front of my desk, sweat sliding down my cheek._

Or was that tears?

Just then, all of my half conceived notions and thoughts twisted and fell into words that I felt we were both feeling.

"This isn't..." I began.

"Real?" He finished.

I exhaled, my breath showing me how chilly it was.

"I should know, this is my dream." He moved away from me, and turned and sat on my desk.

"That's the type of things people say in dreams." I said lazily, my fingers trailing up his thigh.

"And you wouldn't be acting like that, would you?"

"Maybe..." I laughed, but felt sick for some reason.

"Death is not eternal." I said suddenly.

House quirked a brow. The scenery got fuzzy and all I saw was his eyes, hands as they held unto mine subtly.

"Your life had been hindered far too long and is now slowly wearing thin of your masks."

House interrupted. "What do you mean? All I hear is _rhetoric_."

I let my eyes tell him silently I had no idea what I was saying.

But soon, they made sense as I spoke again. "The End is not a folly on stage. The End is not a tragic play, it is you. If you keep hiding. If you keep lying to yourself."

House looked at me like I was crazy.

"You must find what it truly means to live, to find the end. If you do not, you will meet that _ultimat_e ending sooner than you think, House."

Something sparked in his eyes. Was it understanding? Was it love? Was it anything?

"If you do this, you must let the end become more of a beginning. But, it will never be found in two, simple words."

Something clicked in both of us.

--


	10. Melted Wax

I woke up slowly, trying to distinguish the images in my mind past reality, and reality past those images. My eyes fluttered open and I felt warm, yet inside, I was chilly and twisted with a odd, empty feeling.

Whether I was still asleep or not, everything_ felt _familiar. Finally realizing I was in my bedroom, I lifted my head and looked outside. It was almost light.

The most horrible dream I ever had...

It seemed there was something shared, a close intimacy. I felt such that with House, as though we were both aware we were dreaming the same dream. Like we were now connected some how. And now for some reason, I felt full as I thought it, then sensed it... wait..

But that's...

That's crazy.

But I felt awake, not tired one bit, as I felt my eyes widening in the shadows of my room.

Was that message meant for me? Or him? Did telling House about my dream affect him that much? No, no, no, I'm thinking about this... I can't think, not when he's always in my dreams... damn owls, damn House, damn, damn, DAMN.

I threw my legs on the side of my bed, stretching upward as I scooted my body away from the covers, still high with dreams. Once my feet were upon the ground, I decided to take a shower. Maybe I'll talk to House about it.

But, the thought gave me chills. What if he really did have the same dream as I?

--

The vision of the owl soared through my thoughts, seeming to caress my body like silky air.

I shook it off and went the bathroom, slipping off my clothes, into the shower.

I let the water run so hot, I thought I would faint blowing steam into my back, and I knew how it felt to be melted wax. I coughed a little at the steam, and turned it to cold immediately.

--

I decided I wouldn't tell him.

If he wanted to say something, then, let him.

Screw it all.

--

As the cold water cascaded along my curves and into my hot face, I noticed I was crying.

--

I slipped out of the shower.

..._Is_ this_ what a mid-life crisis feels like_?

I slammed my knees to the ground, sliding on the tile floor, letting myself heave out the tears I've longed for.


	11. Not Wilson's, My Heart

(This is dedicated to my new beta, suallen-parker, she's my German god_dess_.)

* * *

When I arrived at work; my nose was red, and my eyes were dark but I didn't care. I was wide awake, and my pulse was humming with a new and fresh stance.

Things have quieted down since the release of the last patient, the one that had Fatal Familial Insomnia, which unfortunately is untreatable. However, treating the symptoms would help her live a more normal life. Barely.

It unsettled me, for it brought up a similar occurrence. Insomnia, which I felt increasingly more apt to stay awake, and not dream. And insomnia was the same, no matter if there is a illness that follows or not. _But, the patient was having panic attacks as well while being diagnosed here. _

As well?

I don't _have_ panic attacks...

_Then what do you call this morning's little discrepancy? _

In spite of the little argument inside of my head, I held my head up high, slipping my keys in my pocket as I went upstairs through the elevator, to my office.

Now, House was in clinic duty, so I could rest easy. For awhile.

--

"Hey Cuddy?"

I heard a soft, warm voice call out, almost like honey, and I knew immediately it was Wilson.

"Yeah?" I looked up and smiled at him, genuinely pleased to have a sort of distraction from these never ending thoughts ...

House.

Wilson smiled back and walked inside, a stray hand scratching the back of his head. He sat down.

"It's ... House." I didn't hear the desperate tone in his voice as I began to voice my sarcastic, stressed out response.

"Great! I really would l_ove_ to, Wilson, but I think I'll go throw up now--" I should have bit my tongue after the first syllable, cause when I saw his face, agonizingly confused and despondent, I wanted to slap myself.

My lips stretched to a thin a line, and I looked at him, softly nodding my head for him to speak.

"He seems distracted. I think he really likes you, Cuddy. But I also know he's too stubborn to admit it." Wilson said slowly, almost as if saying those words brought instant heartbreak. Maybe it was just my imagination, that heartbreak. Maybe it was me trying to twist the situation. Maybe it was _my_ heart--

"Oh?" All I could manage to say. Heat flowed into my cheeks, then his.

"I don't believe it." I said under my breath.

"Why? He's --"

"I have a question, Wilson." Something aching in the back my brain.

"Y-yes?" Wilson coughed out. He bit his lower lip _so_ slightly.

I looked straight in his eyes, and it burned. "Why were you crying the other day? Did you two fight?"

Wilson seemed to wince as he looked at me, trying to find a way to not answer the questions. "That was two questions, Cuddy." Wilson tried to smile, but it faded away to a jumble of emotions.

"Ok, then listen to t_his_, I don't need a matchmaker." I said shortly, in a huff. Just then, a warm range of fleeting scenes galloped into my sight, dreams... voices... touches... hot.. breath.

Wilson sighed. "I don't know if I can do it anymore. I can't..." Wilson leaned forward, his breath ragged suddenly and his pupils widened and frantic. Scared. "I can't be around him anymore... it's.. it's too hard." He said so softly, his voice cracked and dribbled to a sob.

My posture softened, knowing that he probably had different reasons for these thoughts, than compared to mine. I needed to solve this puzzle.

I needed to do this... _now_.

"Tell me why." I said tentatively.

"I'm scared that I'm falling for the one person I really can't begin to forgive or understand." He said slowly, "Our friendship has always been tested, and that's why I thought we were pretty much solid. It's worked. Until now." He seemed ok with that statement. He had other pressing issues withering away at his soul. "And I know he's been slowly pushing me away, and now he's always wondering why I want to be around him. He says I'm trying to overcompensate forgiving him by being desperate and... lonely."

_Lonely_. No one likes that word. No one likes to admit the implication.

He sighed in a frustrated huff. "I used to want to be around him, but now that I think about it, maybe I really am that lonely. Or maybe, we are too close." He let the idea slip past his mind, out of his conscious. I saw his body sigh as he said it. He let his eyes open and lips smile a little. It was a sad smile. "I still miss Amber. I'll always love her, and I'm letting House get in the way of the only truth I found in my life."

"Love is too precious. Life is too precious. I'll settle things with House when its meant to be."

"Now, I think, you and him are meant to be."


	12. You Crazy, Crazy Woman

**Present time of first chapter.**_

* * *

_

As I watched the two friends walk together, I thought about Wilson, and what he had said. Everything seemed the same. But, I had this feeling that one day one of the two will crack. I don't know if it would be a good one or a bad one.

_"Now, I think, you and him are meant to be."_

The words still gave my heart a jump start into a crash of House, House, _House_...

Just then the lights seemed to dim and my stomach did a flip flop. Everything became dizzy and...

I felt my body tremble as my hand slipped across my desk, my body a dizzy mess, tumbling to the ground.

I suddenly heard a mass of voices, a blur of white.

"Dr. House! Dr. Cuddy just fainted!" A woman's voice called.

--

I soon saw House running into my office, as fast as he could with his limp... his eyes frantic as he saw me crouched against my desk, holding my heart, heaving and breathing raggedly.

"Ah shit." House muttered. He ran out the room and seemed to be gone for hours. In reality, it was only minutes.

He ran towards me, his features blurry, his eyes stinging through my tears, straight into my soul.

He handed me a brown bag, helping me up. "Cuddy, it's alright, you're just having a panic attack. Your fine." He said so softly, just the sound helped me to clear my head. I was spinning, and hot, slowly swirling away from reality... until House came.

He took my hand and took me to my seat. "Just stop thinking, just relax. Ok? Breathe into this, slowly, alright?" House's voice was all I heard, no words. I took the brown bag and instintively starting breathing, and soon, my vision cleared and I was looking at this... beautiful... insane man.

_meant to be_

"Th-thanks." I managed to reply.

"Uh huh. No prob." He looked at me, with my breath softening, my chest rising and falling. I looked at him.

"House?"

"Hmm?"

Do you ever dream?

"What would you do if I kissed you right now?" I grabbed his shirt and pulled him a little closer to me. His breathing picked up.

A moment of strange contentment faced us, then dissipated. House seemed to be thinking about it.

"A-HA!" I laughed shortly, letting go of his shirt. "You fell for it!"

It maybe took House thirty seconds to fully realize he had been duped by his own game, but as soon as he did, he smiled. He seemed almost proud.

"Good one. But I have an even better one." He began.

"Oh? What would th--"

He leaned forward and caught his lips with mine, his hand caressing my cheek.

"You crazy, crazy woman." House whispered as he drew away. "_We both fell for it_."

"The End." I smiled.

"Not the end, only the beginning." House replied, his eyebrow lifting almost seductively.

Our eyes connected and clicked.

I melted.


End file.
